


Between Loose Ends

by the__end



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bulimia, Drama, Eventual Smut, Hate to Love, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mental Instability, Romance, Self-Harm, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the__end/pseuds/the__end
Summary: Chanyeol lives in fear but Baekhyun is unafraid.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. SUMMARY

Hello! This is my first ever Chanbaek fanfiction that I'm somewhat not afraid to publish. It's a dear to me and it holds so much of my experiences in real life.

I'm afraid I might have to ask mentally unstable and easily triggered people to leave this now for this story contains a lot of mentions of (not limited to) depression, suicide, self-harm, and they can be quite descriptive.

Please do enjoy though. And of course, you can always message me whenever you feel like it. It can either be about this or your life, doesn't matter! Let's talk.


	2. Chapter I

It was summer. Summer meant going back to your family after a very long time away from them, the raddled and distressed students finally getting a well-deserved two-month break (too short, even) from supposedly useful yet hellish university duties and studies. A time to finally put yourself at relaxation's hands, a time to drive out of town, a time to focus on one's self, a time to enjoy, to smile. In summary, summer meant giddiness. A short-lived ignorance. A fraction of your life in which you truly mean to live—that is if you're not an anorak and get high on education and knowledge. Well, at least that's what it meant for everyone else.

For Park Chanyeol, summer and school felt the same. Maybe summer was even worse.

It was summer and it was an awful time and place to entertain the existential crisis looming at the corner of his imbecile brain, that much he knew. He was inside a taxi cab he hailed earlier from university, its wheels sending him home—a maniac laugh escaped his lips after such a comical thought, and the cabbie looked at him through the rear-view mirror and said cabbie's hands started fidgeting on the wheel, undoubtedly affirming to himself that his passenger is indeed a lunatic.

Chanyeol was starting to worry why he hasn't had an episode for months, and why he hasn't seen them since as well. The only logical reason (or excuse) he could come up with was the shit ton of paperwork and readings he had. Disregarding the known fact that it was clearly not the time and place for such notions, he drifted into interrogation right away like it was daily routine; Why is he here? Why is everything the way they were? Why him? Why not him? Why is his life relevant if the world would still revolve subsequent to him dying?

Later on, he pondered about university. Post-coital sadness, if you will (for he used to be one of those people who get high and off on education, and it was the closest feeling to a family he could get), yet the sadness turned into depression in the blink of an eye and it lingered really well, smothering him and every nook and cranny of his soul. Though sadly it was never about parting with his beloved school in the first place—for the depression has always been there way back; a seed his enemies blindly and unconsciously planted and it blossomed really well, much to Chanyeol's dismay. Recently (and by recent he meant for the last thirteen years---time was a blur for poor Park Chanyeol), he's come to appreciate the sadness, the rain, and the endless downfall for they have given him shelter and fed him so persistently to the point where he could already feel like throwing up. Now depression was his blanket.

He was, yet again, starting to question why he chose law school in the first place. With no doubt at all, he already knew the answer. His face twisted oh so bitterly at the thought. That's something he's not willing to reminisce right now.

The cabbie was shockingly quiet. Well, hell, who wouldn't be if you have a lunatic with you inside an enclosed moving vehicle? Chanyeol silently thanked his psychopathic self which spared him unwanted and awkward small talks. He decided to tip extra later on.

\---

Fuck, tried to be nice and this is how it goes down, Chanyeol thought.

He implicitly cursed himself as he realized that he sounded like a dick, with a scorched voice mind you, when he forced his comfortably glued mouth to let out a mumbled 'keep the change,' only to see that the money he gave was enough to pay for the metro and no change were to even be charged in the first place. This immediately went down to one of his "anxiety" and "trip down to disaster lane" pandora boxes. This is why he always seals his mouth with a staple gun and, just for good measures, eight stitches. It doesn't bother him though, for he was not a talker because every time he opens his mouth, all that comes out is just plain arrogance or impudence. So, shutting himself up is the best call for everyone.

Once the taxi was out of sight, the tall male picked his slumped back from the ninety-degree-thank-you-bow. He heaved out a heavy sigh, eyes fluttering slowly as he did so. He was restraining himself to face his greatest nightmare of all, but as usual, his feet proved and fulfilled loyalty once again; just like the past year, and the year before that, and the year before that year, and you get the lot of it. The house was eerily calling out to him with hushed whispers. And like a dog on a leash, like a cat being persuaded with a stinky yet tasty tuna meal, his feet followed the owner's ghost call. Like the good boy he was raised to be. Good boy, Chanyeollie.

He caught his own staccato breath inside his throat. The memories rushed inside him almost immediately. But who was he kidding? Before he even left university, they were already crawling under his soft, penetrable skin; pricking him little by little. He just chose to ignore them, but sometimes they get too morbid to do so. Then it occurred to him: Oh! Sweet Jesus, did it ever leave me?

The exterior of the house already grew a ludicrous amount of what Chanyeol thought was Boston Ivy. The roots were spreading all across the side of the white house that extended to the ground beneath him, a foot away from the house's red iron gates. He'd wondered if the housekeepers intentionally forget to cut the ghostly, stingy vines or if it was just his paranoia talking. He felt suffocated.

He took a step closer to the Park's residences and he suddenly felt a lot more baggage than he expected. As far as he remembered, he held only two suitcases---one on each hand---yet his shoulders carried weight as heavy as a weightlifter's dumbbells, an archer's Hoyt Redwrx bow and arrow; heavy yet light as it hits the target and succumb. He was starting to sink again in the quick sand, but he doesn't thrash his legs to get out of it for once and for all (how could he if he felt heavier than a plane, more liquid than water?), instead he let the journey of himself getting eaten alive by it slowly start now. Besides, he has done this for years, surely---unfortunately---he'll be able to survive. It was inescapable. He braced himself.

Before he could even take a step further, his phone went off accompanied by a vibration. The tall male was let loose of his daydreams. Chanyeol held his chest out of shock before fishing out his cellphone from his pocket, fingers still trembling from fear. He peeked at the caller I.D.: Sehun. He wasn't exactly sure if he was happy to be bailed out of a panic attack with this man's phone call or if he was annoyed by already knowing what the person on the other line was going to say. He took the former for an answer as he clicked the green button, pressing the phone gently on his ear.

"Park, what's up? Have you settled home?" The guy asked. Oh Sehun was a mere clueless twenty-one-year-old boy. Chanyeol stayed stoic. His grip on the suitcase tightened. "Hello?"

Oh Sehun was a miserable child. Park Chanyeol was also a miserable child.

"Why did you call?" Chanyeol asked. No emotions cursed through his chosen tone of voice, yet somehow, he wished Sehun understood him even just this once. Help me, Oh Sehun. But how would he be able to? They barely knew each other and couldn't care less to know a shit or two about the other. Knowing each other's name and schedule was sufficient enough to let their relationship going.

"I was going to invite you to this party I'm hosting later, like a 'woohoo, school's done for now' party, y-you get what I mean?" Sehun bluntly said, followed by a hiccup. He seems pissed, Chanyeol thought. "But looks like you're not up for it? Which is cool, by the way. But that's gonna suck soo bad 'coz we really stocked up some fine MJs for tonight, if y'know what I mean." The guy rambled on. Oh, maybe he's just crossfaded.

"Yeah, no, I'm up for it." Chanyeol didn't even seem excited, but Sehun was too high to register that inside his tiny brain or just really didn't give a single fuck about how Chanyeol felt at all. Besides, when was the last time Chanyeol ever got excited? He just immediately took up the offer because everything else sounded better than the house in front of him. 

The other line became silent and Chanyeol took it as a cue to drop the unwanted call. Still, it salvaged him last minute, giving him more time to breathe in and out deeply and to think. A notification immediately dinged through Chanyeol's phone and he knew it was the house party's address so he didn't bother to look. He put his phone back in his pocket.

He staggered towards the iron gates, his suitcases making such annoying noise. His fingers suddenly felt shorter as he reached for the doorbell, but it was no time to fret. He wanted to get high as soon as possible and just forget he even set foot on this stupid place he called home.

The double doors immediately opened to reveal one of the oldest butlers they've ever had, Kyungsoo, who was dressed with the usual black and white suite. The tall male sighed under his breath, already growing tired. Chanyeol wondered how this boy was able to stay there without getting sick of the confining white walls inside the house. Maybe one day Chanyeol would go seek for his advice. Thankfully, there were no hugs nor ugly sobs necessary since Kyungsoo was nothing but a house companion, and the two served as strangers to each other despite being tied together for years and most probably the whole lot of their lives. Kyungsoo's bound to a contract, see.

The butler made his way towards the gates, bowing right after and mumbling a soft 'welcome home, master.' The sight just made Chanyeol sigh again. He was no master, and the honorific just made his skin crawl more.

"Take my suitcases inside. I won't be able to stay today. I have some...important things to attend to." Chanyeol trailed off, eyes void of any emotion as he stared down at the bowing boy. He didn't bother telling the truth, it was too bothersome. Plus, it was none of Kyungsoo's business. It was his life anyway. "Thanks."

"When will you be back, master?" The butler asked, voice small. His head was still lowered and it was quite obvious that he was afraid of Chanyeol. That was when the taller male realized that he hated Kyungsoo the same way he hated this house. The butler was an accessory to it, after all.

Chanyeol only scoffed. Pathetic.

Kyungsoo lifted his head, taking the bag from Chanyeol's grasp. He shortly bowed again before entering the house and closing the door behind him with a loud thud.

\---

Turns out Oh Sehun's house was not that far. Chanyeol was expecting it to be a city away, but it was only two subdivisions away from his. He wasn't one to complain as long as there were free booze and smoke, though. Or anything, really, that could make him forget everything even if it's just temporarily.

See, Chanyeol was not an alcoholic nor a drug addict. As a child, he despised people who would do such cruel things to their bodies and he was downright disgusted with anything that had something to do with bad vices. He would often distance himself from those people or those things. Now that he's an adult---a wannabe adult---he understood why. Problems aren't excuses to take these things and shove it down your body so casually and frequently---that's probably what the old Chanyeol would say to twenty-two-year-old Chanyeol that was currently holding a glass bong to his lips. The tables have really turned, haven't they?

"Fuck, man, I'm seeing a zebra herd." Sehun whispered beside him, eyes bloodshot. He had his back against the wall, arm draped over his upped knees. He certainly looked like he got hit by a truck, and honestly so did Chanyeol.

They were inside a random room---the insane amount of anime posters on the wall had made Chanyeol gag---with strangers who also wanted to have a taste of something better than alcohol. Chanyeol wasn't sure if the party had died down or if he was just too high to hear anything other than his own jagged breathing and Sehun's constant complaints of how stoned he was and how he wasn't going to smoke weeds again (which is a blatant lie). Everything was suddenly quiet and he felt tranquil at that.

"How wouldn't you if you've been at it since this afternoon?" Chanyeol asked rhetorically before taking a hit. "And it's called a dazzle, not a zebra herd."

"Yada yada, you're too smart even when you're like...this." Sehun rolled his eyes as he motioned his hands up and down Chanyeol's current state. He snatched the glass bong from Chanyeol's hands. That's just basic Science, though, Chanyeol was unsure whether he had said it out loud or not. He didn't care either way.

The taller male's mind hit the hay but he knew full well that he was still awake since his eyes were staring so fervidly at the magic faucet across the room, just above the desk with scattered mangas---another gag from Chanyeol. He felt like he was astral projecting as the faucet went nearer and nearer to him. Or was it him going near it?

I'm so high. I'm so fucking high and it's so terrific.

Chanyeol held his gaze, wondering how the hell that faucet worked and how the water was continuously flowing. If he wasn't so drunk and high, he had probably already mapped out the mechanism inside his brain. But right now he was vulnerable, dumb, careless, everything but blue. He's ecstatic despite the fact that he's struggling to stay awake. Park Chanyeol was not one to be impulsive; he fancied the whole 'taking your time before coming up with a final decision' thing, but for some reasons, he felt different tonight. Or is it today? What time is it, even? Tonight, he's bold. He's brave. And he's going to do whatever the fuck his mind wishes to because he can. He finally can.

"Can I take your bike?" He asked Sehun hopefully. "I mean, borrow it."

The unusual request perplexed Sehun, causing the said boy to tilt his head and raise his eyebrow. "What for?" He asked, voice now barely audible. If he still goes on at this rate, he'll probably die.

"I don't know. I mean, I do know where I want to go, but I'm not sure why I want to go." Chanyeol struggled to explain as he took the bong away from Sehun and placing it beside him where it was unable to be reached (though Sehun did have quite long arms.) He felt like he had a lot to say right at that moment, but he was tongue-tied and all sense got mixed with the smoke gushing out the balcony behind them.

The tall male was trying his hardest to hold on, to push himself to do this one thing he had been meaning to do for the longest time in his life. Thought it was only a recurring thought every time he's crossfaded; he knew that his subconscious wanted this as well. He wanted to do this right now for when he wakes up tomorrow, he'll be pinned down again. He'll be hearing the echoes again that he so desperately tries to drown out. He'll be unable to have to courage to. Park Chanyeol was struggling but he couldn't stay awake any longer, thus, he fell into a deep slumber.

"Yeah, sure. Bring it back in one piece, though." Sehun threatened, finger pointed towards his smoking buddy. Chanyeol was already drop dead on the floor. It didn't look like he had plans to wake up again sooner. "And he's out, folks." Sehun announced to the uncaring strangers they were with.

Sehun fell asleep right after.


End file.
